Jonah, Violence, and the Imago Dei

A sermon preached on July 9, 2016 at United Presbyterian Church, Lone Tree, IA

Jonah. What an odd little book of our bible. It's absurd, really.

God commands his prophet, Jonah, to go preach to the great city of Nineveh. God sends Jonah straight into the heart of enemy territory. And Jonah refuses.

Not unreasonable I suppose.

Jonah not only refuses, he runs in the exact opposite direction until he reaches the ocean. There he buys a ticket on a ship to the furthest point west in the known world.

Jonah is sleeping in the bottom of his escape pod when an awful storm arises. Those in charge of the ship end up throwing Jonah overboard to stop the storm because Jonah is sure the storm is God's punishment for his disobedience.

The storm calms and a great fish swallows Jonah up. He remains there in its belly, until he is vomited up, three days later, on the beach.

God again sends Jonah on his way. Jonah goes to Nineveh where he walks the streets preaching a half-hearted, pathetic message; “40 days and you will be destroyed!”

One wonders why anyone would heed such a ridiculous message from an unknown preacher wandering the streets of their city.

But wonder of wonders, it somehow manages to do the trick. The whole city heeds Jonah's message. The people of Nineveh, led by their king, repent. Yes, their king, actually leads the repentance.

How crazy is that?

The whole telling of the tale includes the ridiculous image of the animals also being dressed up in sack cloth and ashes joining in with the humans in fasting.

And the result? Destruction is averted. The city is spared.

But. Jonah. Is. Crushed.

Jonah slinks off to a hillside in the country. There he wishes to die. He would rather die than see the people of Nineveh repent. He would rather die than be a part of God's plan to save the Ninevites.

And then:

God sends Jonah a plant that grows into a great bush in one day; this makes Jonah exceedingly happy. But then a worm destroys the plant the next morning and an east wind blows that dries everything up.

This makes Jonah so angry he once again wishes to die.

The story then wraps up with God challenging Jonah over his anger, saying,

“You ‘pitied’ the shrub, for which you didn’t work and which you didn’t raise; it grew in a night and perished in a night. 

Yet for my part, can’t I pity Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than one hundred twenty thousand people who can’t tell their right hand from their left, and also many animals?”

This tale is completely absurd.

But I haven't even mentioned the most absurd part of all.

Jonah finds the love, the mercy, and the grace of God so absurd that he wants to die. He'd rather die than see the same grace and mercy he knows from God extended to his enemies, to those he despises, to those he sees as other.

He'd rather die than be any part of God's plan, that is if God's plan includes the Ninevites.

Jonah's pathetic little pity party finds him saying,

Come on, Lord! Wasn’t this precisely my point when I was back in my own land? This is why I fled to Tarshish earlier! I know that you are a merciful and compassionate God, very patient, full of faithful love, and willing not to destroy.

God's challenge to Jonah is poignant:

“How can you care more for this shrub than for the welfare of the people of Nineveh?”

You see there is this idea, this notion in the Jewish and Christian faith that we all have been made in the image of God. That each of us created to be bearers of God's image.

This idea is called the imago dei and it comes from the first chapter in Genesis where it is said that God created humankind God's image. It is re-enforced again by Jesus who said that when we serve others – especially the poor, the sick, the hungry, those in prison, we do it unto him.

In this story of Jonah, I hear God challenging Jonah because it seems he has forgotten how we are all made in the image God. That we all have value. That Jonah should care deeply for the welfare of the people of Nineveh, because God cares for all. 

That Jonah would choose violence rather than mercy.

As I was studying and working on this sermon breaking news came about altercations in Baton Rouge and Minneapolis, in which two different black men were killed at the hand of the police.

These shootings have re-ignited cries of cries and protest. And then to make maters worse, later in the week in Dallas in the midst of peaceful protests a sniper took the lives of 5 policemen.

I'm not going to say much about the circumstances of any of these shootings. I just don't have the distance or the energy to process this all with you this morning and truth be told I may say more than might be helpful.

But here is what struck me and hit me so hard in the midst of all this. We are all image bearers. Without qualification. 

Though broken and hurting, in need of mercy. Though Imperfect and flawed, in need of mercy. We are all image bearers.

Alton Sterling is an image bearer. A subject of violence in a world that seldom shows mercy.

Philando Castille is an image bearer. A subject of violence in a world that seldom shows mercy.

Our African American brothers and sisters are image bearers. Too often subjects of violence in a world that seldom shows mercy.

Brent Thompson, Patrick Zamarripa, Michael Krol, Lorne Ahrens, and Michael Smith are image bearers. Subjects of violence in a world that seldom shows mercy.

{Moment of Silence}

It's been a hard week, to say the least. It's been hard to know what to say. Hard to know where to find truth. Hard to find good news.

That said, I was so inspired by a story that crossed my facebook feed on Friday that I want to end with it this morning.

In the aftermath of so many recent events, a young african american women writes these powerful words:

So this morning I went into a convenience store to get a protein bar.

As I walked through the door, I noticed there were two white police officers (one about my age the other several years older) talking to the clerk (an older white women) behind the counter about the shootings that have gone on in the past few days.

They all looked at me and fell silent.

I went about my business to get what I was looking for, as I turned back up the aisle to go pay, the oldest officer was standing watching me. As I got closer he asked, "How are you doing?” I replied, "Okay, and you?”

He looked at me with a strange look and asked me,"How are you really doing?" I looked at him and said "I'm tired!" His reply was, "me too." Then he said, "I guess it's not easy being either of us right now is it?"

I said, "No, it's not." Then he hugged me and I cried.

I had never seen that man before in my life. I have no idea why he was moved to talk to me. What I do know is that he and I shared a moment this morning, that was absolutely beautiful. No judgments, No justifications, just two people sharing a moment.

Powerful words. My friends, this is where it begins.

Not judging but listening.

Learning and respecting.

Reaching outside of ourselves with love and compassion.

Putting aside labels and accusations of the other

Weeping with those who weep.

Looking for the image of God within our brothers and sisters.

Realizing that we are all in need of mercy and grace.

In a world of full of violence that seldom shows mercy, this is how we will begin to find healing, hope, grace, peace, justice, mercy, compassion, and love, not only for ourselves but for the world and everyone within; each uniquely made and created in the image of God.

Now and forever. Amen.